


O'Shot Between

by ThatDastardCerberus



Category: Dissidia Duodecim: Final Fantasy
Genre: Betaed, Gen, crotch shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDastardCerberus/pseuds/ThatDastardCerberus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because nobody can teach it like Prishe can. Garland as a test dummy? This will be interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O'Shot Between

"No, no! You're doing it all wrong!"

The Warrior blinked, halting in mid swing, his sword hovering just above Prishe, who had placed her hands on her hips, a deep frown on her face.

"I am… doing it wrong?" He blinked again, confused.

Prishe nodded. "Yup! You're not doing it right. You don't go swinging your sword when you're this close to an opponent."

Replacing his blade back to his side, the Warrior looked down at the Elvaan, an eyebrow arched, mimicking an earlier expression he had seen her use on Zidane. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

She grinned widely. "Simple! Give 'em the o' shot-between!"

Another blink. "Shot… between? Between the what? The eyes?"

Prishe snorted. "Not unless you wanna poke their eyes. Nah, you just gotta—" and to this, turning her body so she no longer faced him, and then she demonstrated with a swing of her leg, start out in front of her.

But even with the movement, the Warrior still did not understand what she was aiming for. Their height differences were so vast, it was almost impossible to tell.

About to voice this, Prishe beat him to the punch and asked, "You really don't get it, do you?"

The Warrior shook his head. "I am afraid not. Your explanation is lacking."

Prishe sighed loudly. "Of course. Fine, I'll hold your hand for this one. But eventually, you're gonna need to learn stuff on your own."

"Okay..." To this, Prishe grabbed the Warrior's hand and dragged him away, to who-knows-where.

* * *

Garland, a training dummy? Who does this incompetent girl think she is?

That's what crossed Garland's mind as he spotted Prishe and the nameless knight. The small elf was chattering away and, upon catching sight of the stalwart, grabbed the Warrior's cape, tugging eagerly as the distance grew shorter. He wasn't amused by the girl's antics and ego, but then again, he was one to talk.

Of course, that was before he caught Prishe stating something about "a new move," and "Garland," and finally, "training dummy." Garland wasn't personally interested in the conversation, but from what he had picked up on, Prishe was intending on teaching the Warrior something by using Garland—Garland, former knight of Cornelia, bane of harmony and light, the God of Discord's right hand—as some mediocre training dummy.

 _Ha_ , he thought as they approached,  _those naïve fools won't see it coming._

Prishe and the Warrior had stopped a good few yards away from Garland. Standing with his legs spread apart, sword clenched in one hand as the other held out in a sort of beckon, Garland spoke;

"What sort of trifle things do you seek to obtain, worm?"

Prishe snorted, patting the Warrior on the back. "You go ahead, big guy. And just remember," she called as the Warrior began to step forward, "the o' shot-between!"

Garland laughed as the Warrior readied his weapon. "Foolish boy!" he growled darkly. Lifting his sword high into the air, he shouted, "I'll cut you down before you can do anything!"

The quake caused by the massive sword shook the ground and everything else. The Warrior jumped, khaki colored cape fluttering like the flag of a battle platoon. Garland detached his blade, meeting the man in the air with both swords swinging.

Prishe then shouted from the ground, "Go for the legs! The legs!"

 _What?_  was all Garland thought before he felt something—something strong and powerful and crushing and hard—slam straight into the forbidden and well-armored weakness of his being.

He heard crunching, snapping and cracking, and then all he could feel was pain, and the utter humiliation as he heard Prishe laugh like a witch.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Golbez stated slowly, hand to his forehead. "You want me to fasten you new armor for your loins because, without explanation, you somehow crushed them to the point of utter agony?"

Garland grunted, holding the icepack to his groin. "Just shut up and get to work, you stupid mage," he growled lethally. "Otherwise, I'll sic the clown on you."

Golbez merely sighed, hands tingling with magic.


End file.
